CyberEmpress201
by Vambot
Summary: An anonymous assassin snipes the head of EnKrypt Co, the company governing the new society kept under the ground of the Earth, making vocaloid Hastune Miku the all-dominating Empress and dictator of Intrapolis. The assassin is not finished however...
1. 1st Report by ?, found by 2KL02

Underground.  
That is where everyone went. The surface was simply too unsafe, too disgusting to sustain life or sanity. An entire network had been woven below ground by EnKrypt Co. Most people had basically made themselves slaves to the company to pay for the living quarters that were sold to them. Most of the rich were either dead of in hiding somewhere outside of Intrapolis. This left Intrapolis governed by the leading minds of EnKrypt Co.  
The new government's turbines were cogged when the new head of the compnay, Izawa Saiba was assasinated by an anonymous sniper. Surveillance had been bugged by a type12 ParaSite program, and detection systems had been wirelessly auto-mailfunctioned. Apart from that, none of the worker's saw anything. Thus, they could say nothing.  
Power fell into the majestic hands of who was being meticulously protected by EnKrypt Co...  
The assassin had left her free and unscathed.  
The Cyber Empress 201, Hatsune Miku.

With all due respect to the Empress, Signing off.  
[Name erased] 


	2. Construct 1

"Its because of logical thinking. Being able to digest information and formulate logical solutions to problems posed based on the information provided. Cognition like that lands you a government job. There are few human beings on this planet able to do that kind of thing without being mentally abnormal" said a slave, as he cleaned and prepared some gears for the machine we were building.

He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow, and looked up, way up, at the hundreds of levels of factory and factory workers above us. He almost looked satisfied as he did so, as if marveling at the whole infrastructure of the city. Mechanical arms brought one slave from one level to another, from one cell to another. A woman and her children were being brought down to level 50 to work. A man purchased new workers uniform with his rent money, after a bad oil spill had ruined it. Everyone wore the same uniform in black, grey or navy blue. Chrome for beginners, blue for pro, black for intermediate.

I looked down at my sleek, black uniform, the spot on the back of my hand where my registry chip was buried, and down at my black boots with their cyan laces. I had worked hard enough. My parents had been killed in the nuclear accident. Some people called it Second Hiroshima., the explosion.

Tendons of black wire just missed my face as a huge robot arm carried supply boxes across from my suspended pod to another. My partner looked at me startled, in his chrome uniform. He wasn't registered yet. He had no chip, so technically he didn't exist. If he had died, it would not have been noticed. It'd be like squashing a fly and forgetting about it just seconds afterwards.

He patted my hard hat and smiled.

"Kids like you perplex me. I'm shocked that you're not working in the Hive by now, up there with the bosses" he said. "I'll see you later, QL" he said. He hailed an Arm and it took him to another station, where he'd help other slaves fix up more apartment cells for arriving people. Intrapolis was becoming a serious ant mound. More people flooded in everyday. I wished him luck as I watched his chrome colored figure get smaller and smaller in my sight.

I was already dismal. I forgot I'd been wearing my working gloves when I ran my hand through my choppy, silver-bleached, bobbed hair, so I almost shrieked when I realized I'd slicked it with oil. Great. There went my rent money for a bath.

There was a children's wash, for children 7 to 17, separated between girls and boys and tweens and teens. I ignored the company of the other 16 year old boys. I wanted to get out as fast as possible. There were no doors, no dividers, and the water was usually very cold. Soaps frequently ran out since it was rationed. It was dark in the wash chamber. It was dimly lit by a red neon black light that made the white soap glow. It looked radio active.

"You done with that?" someone asked me.

"Y-yes, here-"I tossed the soap to him, grabbed my thinning towel and left the place to get to my cell. There was an announcement that told every slave to work 3 extra hours. They had the audacity to mention that they'd play music for us as we worked. It was music that mocked us, songs about life how it was before. I actually hated it. The songs were all nostalgic and worst of all, inhuman. High level slave or not I was still a slave, and I was still subject to the same psychological torture as everyone else. EnKrypt Co. had enough morality to give us music though. They'd have electronic angels sing to us after the hard working hours. Their holograms would be suspended high up in the mound, in shiny black cages. They voices would carry through the hot, filthy air like water through our souls. Then the lights would go out, the angels would be locked away, their sad eyes dead, and everyone would crawl like rats back to their tight living quarters known as cells. The heavy clang of metal would ring out as bars were locked. A machines raspy voice would give us last minute alerts and reminders. Someone would be leveled up and receive their new uniform from a tall stoic guard who never spoke.

It was almost the same every single day. Days were counted by clocks, clocks were everywhere. There was no sunlight down here, so one ever actually knew whether it was really sun up or not. It was always dark. Sometimes small children would scurry around the upper levels looking for holes in the walls. Children who were born down here could only imagine based on what other told them. People like me, who remembered, had more reason to mourn for it.

Sometimes people died trying to see at least the moon rear her face somewhere. Some went insane, crawling up to the highest level, trying to summon the moon or sun from out the abyss in a strained voice, to be shot down by an EnKrypt Co agent. EnKrypt Co was brutal, and we were constantly told that it was all to ensure a better future. Some slaves went as far as suicide to escape the tyranny. One thing was certain, however. EnKrypt Co was fewer than the slaves. One day, they would dwindle if they didn't think quickly enough. I'd always say, in conversations, that someone would take matters into their own hands and we'd just have another dictatorship. Everyone was hungry for recognition and power, since we had all come from such high standards of living.

I crept into my cell, level 71, with a good view of the tower in the center of Intrapolis. The EnKrypt Co spire was where the hive was situated at the top. That is where they keep the singing angels. That is the massive bird cage where hope is perched, being hidden from the world by evil killers calling themselves "humanity's hope". If they were humanity's hope, then our future was Pandemonium.

The intercom spoke of new light fixtures that would be installed in the cells while I was trying to block out the sounds of crying and moaning from below. I covered my ears; I glimpsed myself thin and pale in the glint of an iron bar, light that had come from the hive. Blue, fluorescent light; A halo at the peak of the tower. I shut one modified violet eye to escape…I had to cherish my nights where I got to sleep in my own cell, because pretty soon I wouldn't be able to keep paying for it until I paid off all that I owed on modifications. The system was sick. I had to pay for what I rightfully earned. I wanted to be out of it, but that was just a dream. The gears would keep turning, keep crushing our bodies until the whole of Intrapolis was crimson with our blood.


	3. Destruct 2

Black hard hats with cyan lights, chasing away the metal-rusted shade; the intermediate workers who worked the longest and the hardest talked mostly about work. It was a contrast compared to the other types, who spoke mostly about leveling up and getting to see the "singing angels" up close. Today however, everyone talked about them. Chrome, blue or black, it did not matter. Every tongue had the words "singing" and "angels" rolling off and causing a stir.

I was helping other level-3s assemble lesser machine parts, and fix the more technical and computer issues in the tower.

"You never see their entire faces. They always have them wearing these ball-masks, and hide them in expensive-looking costumes. Like peacocks. Can you tell the difference between their voices?" one asked me. She had a pretty smile, and long, light hair tied back into a messy bunch.

"I hardly pay them any mind" I admitted, intent on fixing one of EnKrypt Co.'s important computers. We had to work inside of the tower for such a task; EnKrypt Co. officers stood by the exits and entrances only, and did not interfere with us slaves. Our cyan hat lights were the only ones. The tower was lit only by neon, and very few of them in order to save energy, which EnKrypt Co. had taken total control of.

I felt cold eyes burn through the latex of my uniform. I worked faster, without thinking. I remembered my money. Depleted; I had no choice but to work almost to death. There was an announcement made by a distinct, all-too-familiar voice. The voice belonged to Izawa Saiba, EnKrypt Co.'s president, our master.

"All citizens of Intrapolis; A new legislation has been proposed and affirmed by the Board of Minds Bureau. Any worker in blue uniform will be randomly searched by officials for weapons from today and onwards. Enjoy your stay at Intrapolis, and expect a rigorous today, for a perfect tomorrow".

The dragon had spoken. One worker swore, and was immediately arrested by a silent but callous official. I continued to work numbly.

A small, black rat scurried from a corner to seize a morsel from the floor, and was gone in seconds. A light beamed into the dark, red-neon-lit office. It paved a pillar on the floor and made a few cringe with delight; the rat fled from the light after coming out again.

Light steps were made musically; a majestic being came in through the port, but stopped just a few inches from the threshold. Covered from head to toe in broad, fanned out black and cerouline feathers, the figure was paused perfectly. A woman in EnKrypt Co. uniform, which was skin-tight, stood behind the long, beautiful figure. The figure's face was masked by a metal ball mask that was polished, jeweled and feathered to match her clothes. She was a dream incarnate.

"System check. Get to work. You, QL" said the woman, pointing at my name tag. "System-check this one. I'm back in five minutes. Run a clean, 100% scan or you're blue".

As the figure walked, the feathers danced, and long, aquamarine hair glided behind her. Her long arms reached out towards me, and she directed her hand towards a glass gurney towards the back that began to light up at her prompt. I stared nervously. I'd never been asked to do this before. No one ever showed me how, and judging by the other faces, they did not know either.

For whatever reason I was shaking slightly and almost stumbled towards the glowing casket, which had wires that snaked from it to the floor with loose ends.

"I must be plugged in" emitted an unrealistic, synthesized voice that was child-like but robotic. "Help me into the System check".

I glanced around me for some help from the neon, the shadows, and the chatter. I averted my eyes from the figure. How could I touch a transient dream in material-?

She was never put out in the cage before….Was she new?

Five minutes!

I did what I could to help her into the system check casket. I used common sense to know which wires went where. The ports had to be unseen, luckily she directed me on where they should go. The back f the neck, along the spine under flaps of skin-blending silicone.

The computer read out, "system recovering from type11 89%. Total curative diagnosis expected in 240 hours".

The figure sat up rigidly, and began to remove the wires herself. The chatter had died down, but picked back up when an officer cleared his throat.

I nervously helped the angel out of the casket, which stopped glowing. Her light however, did not fade.

She stood tall and luminous, turning her hidden gaze from me to a guard.

"System check is complete. Status uploaded to my internal memory" the figure demanded. I glanced around feeling weightless, as if I were cast onto the moon.

"An angel…" people whispered as the figure walked past dim computer screens and sun-forsaken faces. Her steps were like ice on the black linoleum floor. A guard humbled himself and walked her out of the room. The door closed, and we were all swallowed by darkness again.

"My Asimov, QL! You touched an angel, you'll be out of this Hell pretty soon!" one worker shouted. His eyes were filled with an almost drunk elation.

A few workers crowded over to me.

"You sure you're not some experiment by EnKrypt Co.?" someone shouted. Another asked me about my violet eyes, and another about my bleached hair. Wasn't anyone aware of the past? People could choose who they were in every way. Have they forgotten already?

"What did she feel like? Was she cold, warm?"

"How did she smell?"

"Did she know your name without asking?"

"Did you make a wish?"

"Was her skin soft?".

I was surprised but not as vocal as they were. I still felt almost as if I'd lost my brain. As if it was replaced with tempera foam and helium. My heart fluttered relentlessly. I had touched an angel, definitely. What did it mean? What did that ensure about my future involvement with EnKrypt Co.? Would I have access to the hive? I stopped my hopes from taking such a reckless climb.

"QL, are you alright? Here's some water" said the light-haired worker, holding out a grenade shaped water skin towards me. Her dull eyes were cloudy and concerned.

"No thank you…I'm alright, just shocked due to how unexpected that all was. I…don't understand why I was chosen so abruptly" I muttered, running my fingers through my hair.

"Back to work!" a guard shouted when everyone became too relaxed. "Food rations canceled! get back to work and tomorrow you may not starve".

Like ants, working in order—everyone returned to their tasks automatically. We'd move back outside to help level-1's get used to working the sewage and septic systems as well as the plumbing. Then, a new set of level-3s would replace us, and the vicious cycle would continue.

I thought of the angel as I stood with a few others on a mech-arm that lowered us to a distasteful working area. I would get more money for doing this round of work, so I intended to do it properly.

Suddenly, a light beamed up above as a cage was suspended above all levels near the hive. A sweet, longing voice filled the air. The noise died down just a little as some people listened while they worked. One person had an emotional breakdown, dropping their tools and flailing out of control. Some guards took them away. It was Mechanical Selection. Those who weren't emotionally ready to work under all circumstances had to be canceled out.

I looked up, as soon as I was lowered to the right level, stepping off of the carrier. The angel was wrapped in abstract spirals of material; grey.

After the song was over, we watched the angel fall like a shooting star from the cage as it was tipped over systematically. The angel plummeted silently, and drifted downwards like a soft spring petal into a chasm of dolor. Someone wept, and they took her away, yelling about food rations and money deductions.

I turned my back on all of it, and closed my modified eyes to find some sense of solace and light. I succeeded and returned to the filthy work.


	4. 2nd Report by ?, found by 2KL02

I tried reaching you on the surface, but it seems my attempts were futile. There was a transitory moment where a connection was formed, but suddenly the line went dead and the connection failed. The computer that was used to make the connection was checked over many times for viruses or broken links, but all software and programs seemed intact.

If you are still alive, send a song, as soon as you make a connection. I will leave my wires open, because I want to, sincerely. The future must be reconstructed, and at this rate, there will be no future. Please respond as soon as possible.

With all due respect to the empress,  
-signing off-  
[Name Erased] 


	5. Construct 4

I went two days without food rations. I was not deterred though.

I made my way to one of the holographic news cubicles where the latest allowed information was shared on bright holographic screens that react to touch. One particular story caught my eye:

ENKRYPT CO. ON ALERT FOR ASSASSIN: HEAD OF THE BOARD OF RATIONS ASSASSINATED AT 0:35 YESTERDAY. NO IDENTITY HAS BEEN DISCLODED.

I examined the article, and left the cubicle.

"QL! Hey QL!". I turned to see the level2 worker I considered a good friend. He came running over, tools in his hands and carrying a bright yellow case that half-glowed in the faint light. "I saw you in the news cubicle. Sounds scary right? But it might just be a radical worker trying to….At least it doesn't seem like they're coming after workers" he said, cautious of his surroundings.

Around us, high signs glowed in neon and black lights in some areas. I looked high up to see if I glimpsed any angels, and I was lapsed into the memory of having to give that cyan-haired angel a system check. She was so ethereal…

"QL? How was work yesterday?" my friend asked, as he unpacked his box of tools to begin fixing a defected mech-arm. "A few people had to be taken away. You able to pay for your cell?"

"I still have to make up for the money I spent the other day. Everything…seems to be coming along fine though…".

"Is that so? Well, I think I'm on my way to joining you in black uniform. I checked my stats and it says I'm not too far from an upgrade. All this work! Oh, and the angels. I can't believe they let one fall the other day, totally on purpose! What could that mean?". His sentences were perpetual, capricious rivers.

"I don't know…I don't know" I really did not know. I felt numb. I felt like I was not on the same plane of existence as my friend. It was as if we corresponded between two different worlds even though we stood in the same place at the same time. I was losing my grasp on reality, or rather, losing any concern for it.

"I have a feeling it means they're going to start getting rid of slaves in that same fashion" he went on, now with a lower voice, leaning closer to me, a dirty glove pressed against his face.

"I'm not sure" I muttered. I looked down at my boots, at a spot where some officers had tried to clean blood. Under some of the lights the stain glowed a faint green.

"Do you think that fallen angel had anything to do with the assassin? Funny how-"

"Shut your trap and get to work" said a stoic guard in black. He looked like a shadow, except for a red laser light on the right side of his temple. He carried a gun whose barrel pulsated with lights. Deadly red black and yellow like a snake.

My friend got back to work, all pride gone from his posture. He limped like a wire under a sauntering iron.

I payed neither him nor the guard any mind and got back to fixing up systems. All that was in my mind were the perfect edges and vertices of interface modules and fluorescent katakana over black and white background pixels.

Again, the saccharine synthesized voice rose back up in the black sea of my mind again; the unrealistically perfect skin under fronds of costume feathers that cost a fortune. The light steps echoed and reverberated in my head. Who were the angels and what were they really there for? I asked myself the question, but no answer could pixelate into view like they could on the internet.

I found myself working autonomously, my fingers grazing over the touch screen surface and finding their way through a virtual labyrinth to a search engine. I didn't bother to check if there was a connection or not.

Search_?

_Singing angels_

NONEXISTANT FIELD

What else could have been anticipated? I continued to filter out systems and clean up kinks before it was announced that working hours would be extended again.

"The luxury of the cells and the baths must be paid for. The rest? That is your choice" Boomed the familiar voice on the intercom. I almost broke the computer screen. I watched petals of off-colors bloom on and off of the screen for a few moments.

"Attention all law enforcement personnel; Run a search on every worker in navy uniform. Check starts in 5 minutes" the intercom thundered again. A tsunami of swear words rose up and consumed all hope in one swallow.

"If this alone isn't Hell, then the Testaments should be taken more seriously" said one worker; the entire world's abjuration in her eyes, half hidden by the shadow of her hard hat. Her black hair knotted with moisture. She was a level 2.

Another nameless level 2.

What did a name matter anyways?

I did not bother to ask hers.

Hundreds of workers were rounded up in a heavy silence and clink of metal accessories on the persons of moving officers. I caught my friend's tired eyes as he was searched, looking off and away from the officer that searched him.

Menacing red lights were being shined on those being searched, and lasers were used to run miniature metal detections. One officer would do a pat down, another would shine the lights, and another would use a handheld X-ray.

Nobody seemed to have what they were looking for, so the officers were directed to search all of the cells of the level2s. Time dragged on slowly, with no results. I worked mindlessly, avoiding any trouble. It was the perfect time to pick a person to punish in order to reinforce the image of power on EnKrypt Co.

I closed my eyes, seeing my status wired to my optic nerve, before me in the dark interface of my mind.

The working hours would be over at some point. I would receive my pay, and I would pay off some of the money for my modifications and then rent.

Assassin? I was revisited by the headline title when I finally got to go back to my cell, after having bread as a luxury meal. Lying on my back I was null, feeling only my existence; quiet, still and endless. I was wind, I was nothing. Why would falling angels or the assassination of an EnKrypt Co. member concern me? Better yet, what did they have to do with each other?

I closed my eyes, but before I could force myself to sleep I heard footsteps break the silence. It sounded like running, and I figured it was a slave heading to a restroom or whatnot. I closed my eyes again after having them pried open by surprise. In moments, my thoughts were suddenly obscured, and my mind was being filled with grotesque images of death—some sort of pool of black liquid beneath a partially clothed corpse; the corpse had the perfect skin of an angel, and short brown hair. The eyes were wide and made of glass.

I sprung up abruptly, trying to clear away the images being cast into my mind. Malware? A bug? What could have possibly managed to reach my system?

Then I heard a voice, and I could not tell if it was male or female, a woman's or a child's. I only knew that it was inhuman and synthesized, and somewhat medium in pitch, but still androgynous.

"Another elimination will occur after the next angel falls. Please, try to remember!".

I left my cell, locked it with my password and ran to the nearest water fountain to splash water on my face. Beads of silver dripped to the floor, I was trembling. For the first time in months I was trembling from an emotion: Fear.

Whose images and voice could that have been? I glanced around at my dark surroundings, and looked up at the hive that cast its treasured cyan light. In on of the trapezoidal windows I could see a figure's silhouette. I tried to zoom in on it, but by the time the slow connection between my neurons and the computer adjoined to my brain synchronized, the figure had disappeared from the window.


End file.
